


Right On Time

by thewolfthatwrites



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Dirty Talk, F/M, M/M, Mentioned Jackson Whittemore/Scott McCall, Mentioned Jackson Whittemore/Scott McCall/Isaac Lahey, Minor Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Minor Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate/Theo Raeken, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4606473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolfthatwrites/pseuds/thewolfthatwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One morning, Scott woke up late, but it turned out to be right on time...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right On Time

**Author's Note:**

> Roughly based on the song "Mindset" by Every Avenue.
> 
> Big thanks to my pack for reading and shouting at me about this =)

“’lo?”

“Scott Antonio McCall, you better not be in bed still!”

“’tiles, why you calling so early?”

“Because, Scotty, we have our meeting in like an hour, remember?” Scott can practically hear Stiles pacing. “We were supposed to meet early before Liam and Kira arrive to discuss our game plan.”

“I never actually agreed to meet early because we don’t need a game plan,” Scott says before reluctantly sitting up.

“Whatever, just admit that you woke up late, and you’re now running behind.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you in twenty.” Scott hangs up as he pulls himself out bed. He strips off his boxers as he walks across his shoebox apartment toward the bathroom. After a quick shower, he dresses in the nicest outfit he owns, grabs his phone and keys, and leaves.

Halfway down the seven flights of stairs, he realizes he forgot to make coffee. He debates running back up, but he knows On the Corner Coffee is on his way. Thankfully, the line isn’t too long. He orders and receives his Americano within just a few minutes.

Scott moves over to the counter with the stir sticks and flavored powders, so he can add just a couple shakes of cinnamon to the top of the coffee. Once he’s satisfied with it, he picks the cup up and tries to snap the lid back into place while turning around – right into someone. Coffee sloshes over the lid and sprays his shirt. Scott freezes to stare down at his shirt. At least the color is dark.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry! I know I shouldn’t rush around hot beverages, but I really need to get to work. Shit, you’re covered in coffee! I am so sorry!”

Scott finally manages to get the lid on tight and looks up at the guy still rambling apologies. The words fade away as Scott’s mesmerized by the different shades of blue and green twisting together in the man’s eyes. “That’s me!” The guy is saying over his shoulder to the barista when Scott tunes back in. “I’m so sorry, just let me know the damage okay?” He says before shoving a wadded-up napkin into Scott’s hand. The other man grabs his coffee from the barista and shoots out of the coffeehouse.

He shoves the napkin down into his pocket and follows the man's lead out the door. Stiles is going to kill him for being late.

 

“What happened to your shirt?” Stiles asks as he paces closer to where Scott’s come to stand.

“It isn’t that bad.”

“You smell like you bathed in coffee,” he says, shooting Scott one of his sassier looks.

“Ran into someone at the coffee shop; I got a little doused,” Scott confesses with a shrug. “It’ll dry. When are Kira and Liam getting here?”

“Any second now.” Stiles spins and paces away. “Which totally doesn’t give us enough time to game plan, by the way.”

“Don’t worry about it. They both know they’re new, but we respect them. Neither of them are going to do anything to jeopardize this opportunity.”

“I really hope you’re right.”

“Why are you so nervous? These people invited us here because they saw us and liked our sound and what we’re doing with it.”

“Meeting like this feels like an interview. And I hate interviews. Plus we were so close before. Damn Jackson.”

“It’s not his fault for moving to England.”

“‘It’s not his fault’,” Stiles mimics “suck his dick, why don’t you.”

“Been there, done that, now only Isaac gets it.”

“What the fuck?” Stiles eyes widen.

“Hey guys!” Liam calls out as he and Kira approach them. “Why does Stiles look like he’s having a meltdown?”

“Because Scott is a douche, that’s why.”

“Got you to stop thinking about the meeting,” Scott grins at him. “You guys ready for this?”

“Hell yeah!” Kira and Liam shout. Scott pulls the door open for them, before shoving a momentarily speechless Stiles through as well.

 

“So, in honor of booking a full tour that starts in just a couple weeks–” Stiles pauses for a couple cheers that sound out. “–drinks are on the house tonight, just please don’t get too crazy. Papa Stilinski and his fine deputies are in the house. Anyway, I’ll stop yapping and get to why you all came out tonight, to get down!” Kira starts off the bass drum.  

They’re on their fifth song when Scott notices him. The guy from the day before. He’s not dancing or even rocking to the beat. He’s just standing at the far edge of the room, hands in his pockets, eyes trained on the person in front of him. Scott looks away. The guy probably wouldn’t even recognize him. Their eyes lock during the seventh song, but Scott breaks it to concentrate on the intricate chord progression at the end of the song.

The next time Scott looks up, the guy’s no longer standing there; he’s disappeared into the crowd of people. When they’re done playing, Stiles’ girlfriend pulls him offstage, probably to go make out somewhere. Kira shoots Scott a grin and an eye roll before asking if he wants to join her and Liam at the bar.

Minutes later, he’s lifting his bottle to his lips when someone nudges into his arm. A few drops spill onto his hand.

“You never called, so I thought I’d try again,” the man with the beautiful turquoise eyes smiles and slides a piece of paper over to Scott.

“There wasn’t any damage,” Scott tells him with a grin. “Either time, so you might need to try a little harder.” He thinks about the twenty minutes he spent staring at the napkin the night before, contemplating if he should call or not. In the end, he figured the guy was probably just trying to be nice.

“How about I buy you a drink, instead of spilling another one on you?”

“Drinks are on the house tonight. I don’t know if you heard, but some band just got booked for pretty sweet tour deal. The lead singer went a little power crazy.”

“I think he’s normally pretty crazy.”

“You know Stiles?”

“He’s dating my cousin, so we’ve met a few times.”

“Are you Malia’s hot cousin with the eyebrows of doom and a scowl that makes babies cry?”

The words make the man toss his head back with a laugh. “I usually go by Derek.”

“I’m Scott.”

“It’s nice to meet you Scott. I’ll forgive you for not calling me earlier if you agree to go out with me tomorrow night.”

“I suppose I could handle that, if you promise to stop throwing beverages on me.”

“We’ll see.”

       

“Dude. I still can’t believe you hooked up with Jackson,” Stiles says a few days into their tour while they’re out getting lunch together.

“Dude. How are you still on this?”

“It is a huge development, okay?”

“I honestly thought you knew about this.”

“How the hell would I have known you were banging Jackson?”

“You literally walked in on us once.”

“What?! Oh my god! Wait! That was you? How would I’ve known that was you? You were under the fucking sheet, and you didn’t even attempt to stop blowing him, you little shit. There wasn’t even a pause.”

“He started moaning my name before the door shut,” Scott says with a proud grin.

“I was fucking traumatized. I was seconds away from seeing what Jackson looks like while coming.”

“Fucking beautiful.”

“Ugh. Why couldn’t you have been into Isaac?”

“I was in him a couple times. Enough to get the two of them together anyway.”

“Oh my god! Scott! You had a threesome? Without me??”

“You hated Jackson, and you weren’t all that fond of Isaac either.”

“Principle of the thing, dude. You had a threesome without me.”

“You could’ve made it happen the day you caught me with Jackson’s dick in my mouth.”

“Gross. Don’t talk to me about Jackson’s dick.”

“I thought it was the principle of the –”

“Oh fuck off,” Stiles says, shoving Scott’s arm and rolling his eyes. “Now you’re dating my girlfriend’s cousin, so that’s never happening.”

“She’d probably go for it with Theo Raeken. I’ve seen the way both of you eye-fuck him during his set,” Scott suggests as they throw away their trash.

“Oh my god, Scotty, you’re a genius!”

       

“’lo?” Scott answers his phone a couple days later.

“Scott Antonio McCall–”

“I’m up, I’m up. I’ll be there soon.”

“Soundcheck is in ten minutes! Your ass better be moving!” Stiles tells him before disconnecting the call.

“Your ass better be moving closer to my dick,” Derek’s muffled voice sounds from where his face is smooshed into Scott’s side.

“Stiles will kill me if I’m late to another soundcheck because of your dick, baby.” He says before pulling himself out of the hotel bed. “Then he’ll bring me back to life so he can bore me back to death with a lecture on how he has two lovers on this tour, and he keeps them both satisfied in a timely fashion and is never late for soundcheck.”

“What I’m hearing is that I’m more demanding than two lovers?” Derek asks, batting his eyelashes at Scott.

“You can be extremely needy,” Scott tells him with a grin as he zips up his jeans. “The way you need your mouth on my dick; the way you need my tongue in your ass; the way you need your fingers–”

“Get out of here before I pull you back into this bed and make you follow through on all of my needs.”

“As soon as the show is done tonight, I’m going to rim you for an hour.”

“Promises, promises. Now get out of here before Stiles starts lecturing me too.”

“There’s nothing he can do that will change my mind about taking my sweet time with that sweet ass, baby.”

 


End file.
